


Secret Kiss

by idreamofignoct



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bittersweet, Canon Era, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Sad Ending, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 17:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10995408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idreamofignoct/pseuds/idreamofignoct
Summary: Noctis's want to kiss Ignis leads to revelations he didn't expect from his advisor.





	Secret Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the wonderful ignoct love fest on my Twitter feed for Kissing Day and my own irrational desire to write sad, angsty ignoct. Dedicated to the fandom!

The first time Noctis realized he wanted to kiss Ignis, he’d been fifteen. 

The night had been like any other: him studying for a test while Ignis busied himself in the kitchen. Normally, Noctis didn’t pay much attention to the echo of domestic industry. It’d become so much ambient noise. Comforting. Familiar. But for some reason, he’d looked up from his textbook in time to catch Ignis tasting the soup. Noctis watched, memorized, as the spoon slid past those lips. The effect it had on him was on par with one of Gladio’s hardest hits, leaving him breathless. 

Ignis, seemingly aware of Noctis’s stare, sent him a curious look. But Noctis quickly averted his gaze. It didn’t stop his mind conjuring an image of him pressed against Ignis, tongue running across his bottom lip, inviting Ignis’s mouth open so Noctis could taste _him_. Dinner that night had been so awkward, Noctis ultimately pleaded weariness and escaped into his bedroom before Ignis had the chance to ask what was wrong.

As the years passed, the want remained, ever present and ever infuriating. Especially since the road trip required they spend so much time together. With privacy reduced to almost nothing, Noctis knew he couldn’t avoid looking at Ignis. The truth of it was he didn’t _want_ to stop. The slight, quiet young man who had cooked him dinner and sewed his shirts, while still present, had undergone such a dramatic transformation, Noctis wondered when he’d missed it. He also couldn’t quite pin what it was about Ignis that made him so… _desirable._ Was it the way he wore his hair now? The confident strut? That voice? More than once, Noctis imagined how _that voice_ would sound in the throes of ecstasy. In the end, it didn’t matter how or when Ignis snared Noctis’s attention. Just that he did and the prince was powerless against it. 

He took to entertaining himself with visions of their kissing during long car rides or in those moments before sleep took him. Prompto sometimes caught him smiling about it. Fortunately, Prompto also assumed his reasons involved everything _but_ the truth. Soon, Noctis lost his taste for mere pleasant imaginings. He needed to know what it felt like. He honestly believed he’d go mad otherwise.

But then things changed. What began as mere curiosity transformed into something more. Something deeper. More profound. And it struck him just as readily as any blow.

He realized the truth before they left for Altissia: Noctis was in love with Ignis. That he’d always loved him. He didn’t have time for regret, only a growing determination that somehow, some way, he’d finally experience that kiss. 

The first night, they enjoyed a spectacular meal at Maagho’s that won Ignis’s approval. When their server presented a wine list, Prompto cut off Ignis’s polite refusal with an ecstatic, ‘Yes!’

“I do not recommend indulging here,” Ignis cautioned. “We are scheduled to meet with the first secretary tomorrow afternoon.”

Gladio waved him off. “Come on, Iggy. Think about everything we’ve been through since we left. A little wine won’t kill us. Might not get another chance.” 

The reminder sobered the mood. Prompto sent Ignis a hopeful look. But Ignis looked at Noctis. And Noctis, feeling the truth of Gladio’s words in the pit of his stomach, signaled the server. Gladio thumped him on the back while Prompto cheered. Ignis conceded to Noctis’s wish with a slight nod and a look that promised he’d be watching the prince’s intake. Noctis didn’t plan to drink so much he wouldn’t remember anything. The wine was meant more to stimulate his courage.

The night wore on, as did the number of drinks Gladio and Prompto knocked back. Meanwhile, Noctis nursed his one glass, leaning against Ignis’s arm with the comfortable intimacy they’d enjoyed over the years. Every now and then, he stared up at Ignis, tracing the line of his jaw before inevitably zeroing in on his mouth. Drinking wine shouldn’t be so damn sensual, but he had no other way of describing the way Ignis closed his lips over the rim of the glass. And was that his second? So much for not indulging, he thought with a small smile, and closed his eyes.

A gentle hand on his shoulder roused him. Noctis blinked back sleep as Ignis swam into his line of vision. “It appears they’re here for the duration,” he said, glancing toward Gladio and Prompto with a resigned sigh. As he spoke, Prompto let out a joyous whoop. For such a small guy, he was surprisingly lucid despite the number of empty glasses in front of him. Gladio, clearly struggling to stay focused, growled another challenge. 

Ignis’s voice drew Noctis’s attention. “It’s been a long day for you. Allow me to escort you back to the hotel.” 

Noctis, whose mind immediately went to a place that sent a pulsing warmth through his body, only managed a nod. Good. Getting Ignis alone was an integral part of his plan. 

They boarded the gondola, Ignis assuming the seat across from him. He observed the sights with a small, pleased smile. Noctis fretted over how to best approach the subject of kissing. It consumed him to such a degree that once they arrived at Leville Station, all he wanted to do was pull Ignis into the shadows, push him against the wall, and finally- _finally_ \- know the touch of those lips.

“Noct? Are you listening?”

Noctis, yanked from his reverie by the very one it revolved around, found his frustration mounting at seeing how good Ignis looked in low lighting. “Sorry,” he said, though in truth Ignis should apologize for being Ignis. “What did you say?”

Ignis’s lips tightened, a typical expression for when he was exasperated. Noctis wished he hadn’t done that. “I asked if you wanted to sleep right away. I can make arrangements for separate lodgings if that is your wish.”

Noctis’s wish certainly didn’t involve separate lodgings where Ignis was concerned. “It’s okay. Not really that tired right now.”

Ignis studied him for a moment. The way his eyes searched Noctis’s face made him keenly aware of how perceptive he was. “Is something troubling you?”

The ground felt shaky beneath Noctis’s boots. His laugh was shaky, too. But there was no use trying to fool Ignis. It was sink or swim. He sighed, rubbed the back of his head. 

“Um. Yeah. Can we talk? In the room?”

The want to alleviate Noctis’s distress shone in Ignis’s eyes. “Of course.” 

They crossed into the hotel, Ignis nodding to the concierge as he followed Noctis up the steps. About halfway up, Noctis’s knee twitched, causing him to stumble against Ignis. His irritation evaporated the moment a supportive arm circled his waist. Though far from the first time Ignis assisted him like this, their proximity, coupled with the thoughts racing through Noctis’s mind, brought a slight flush to his cheeks. He also became increasingly aware of how good Ignis smelled. 

Ignis produced the room key from his pocket with a graceful movement. He unlocked the door, then stepped aside to let Noctis in first. The nearest bed featured the clothes Ignis planned to launder while in the hotel, so Noctis settled onto the second bed. Long habit had him kick off his boots and set his phone on the bedside table. The balcony doors stood open, allowing the low murmur of conversation to drift into the air. The air carried the salty tang of the sea.

Ignis paused to hang his jacket in the closet before seating himself on one of the chairs. “What’s on your mind, Noct?” 

Noctis toyed with some stray threads on his pants. Directness did not come easily to him. Nor did clever speech. So he sat in silence, perplexed by his inability to just _spit it out already,_ all while fearing Ignis would assume he needed time and would take his leave. 

A moment passed. Two. Then Ignis emitted a small sigh. “I understand the situation here is a bit overwhelming for you. Admittedly, we’ve done little preparing for what we’re expected to do. I’ve failed you in this regard, and I apologize. If you’ll allow me, perhaps we should—” 

Noctis lifted his head, caught Ignis’s gaze with his own. The words tumbled forth then, unbidden. 

“I want to kiss you.” 

Ignis blinked, clearly confused. “Pardon?”

Noctis’s pulse quickened. “I want to kiss you.” 

A pause. Then Ignis lifted a brow. “A peculiar joke, highness.”

Noctis shook his head. “It’s not a joke,” he said, almost not recognizing his own voice. He stood over Ignis now, his hands trembling from want to touch him. His gaze dropped to Ignis’s mouth. Glimpsing his tongue pass over his teeth as his lips parted sent a pleasant jolt through the prince. “It’s more. I- I don’t think I can marry Luna. Not with how I feel about you.”

This time, Ignis heard him. His natural poise and cool demeanor seemed to collapse around him. He stared at Noctis, looking, for the first time in their lives, utterly _undone_. His throat flashed in response to his rapid breathing. His eyes, slightly wide behind his glasses, showed Noctis a mind desperately trying to formulate a strategy for this new, unexpected situation. Noctis, wanting to put him at ease, reached for him. 

Then he saw the pain in Ignis’s eyes. 

Conscious of the way Noctis’s gazed at him, Ignis quickly rose from the chair and fled for the window. Noctis watched him, noted the tension in his shoulders. The way his hands flexed at his sides. 

“Iggy?” Noctis joined him at the window. The taller man nearly flinched at his nearness. Such a response puzzled as much as it hurt. At courageous as he felt before, now he felt clumsy, insensitive. “Did I say something wrong?” 

Ignis made a small sound, more a low moan than anything else. He covered his mouth with a slightly trembling hand. The uneasy silence stretched between them, compounding Noctis’s misery. 

At last, Ignis turned to face him. Raw emotion stripped him of his composure, leaving him exposed in a way Noctis never believed possible for Ignis. “Do not tell me these things, highness,” he said, referencing Noctis’s royal title as if it were a steadying hand- or a reminder. “I beg you.”

Understanding set Noctis’s heartbeat racing. He stared at Ignis, feeling at once overwhelmed by this revelation and mentally kicking himself for being so thoughtless. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. 

“Iggy- how long-?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Ignis’s voice was a husky rasp. 

“It matters to me,” Noctis countered. At seeing Ignis start to move away, he grabbed his forearm. “Talk to me. Please.”

Talking looked like the last thing Ignis wanted to do. He gave Noctis a sad, apologetic smile. “Speaking of it will not make things any easier. The reality is it cannot be,” he murmured. “There are expectations for us.”

The anguish, the regret, thickening Ignis’s words clawed at Noctis’s heart. It was one thing for the prince to be denied what he longed for. It was another to see Ignis suffer the same.

“To hell with what’s expected of us,” he half-growled. He closed the distance between them. Ignis’s breath caught when Noctis slid his hands up his arms. Knowing Ignis labored under the same feelings he did brought forth a rush of tenderness Noctis knew he could never display for anyone else, not even Luna. And though he felt his heart breaking under the truth of Ignis’s words, Noctis was determined to give him _something._

Still holding his gaze, Noctis laid his first two fingers over Ignis’s mouth. The other man drew in a small breath. Then, his expression echoing of powerful emotion, Ignis curled his fingers around Noctis’s wrist and kissed his fingertips. The slow, languid movement of his lips sent a rush of pleasure through Noctis so powerful, he felt his knees go weak. But he took up Ignis’s hand, drawing the glove off, his movements a little uncoordinated as Ignis continued to kiss his fingertips. 

Once he had the glove off, Noctis brought Ignis’s slender fingers to his own mouth. As Noctis explored the underside of his fingers with his lips, his heart twisted at knowing this was the only kiss they’d ever share. The feel of warm, pliant lips experienced by his fingers and carried to his own mouth as a memory. A secret kiss. One Noctis took with him when he challenged Leviathan, during the heartrending journey to Tenebrae, his trek through the Keep, and, ultimately, his ten-year sleep within the Crystal.

But it was not the memory of that first, poignant kiss Noctis brought with him up the Citadel steps on that rainy night in Insomnia. It was what he saw when he glanced over his shoulder at hearing daemons. 

Prompto and Gladio had turned to face the enemy. Ignis gazed up at the steps, seemingly at Noctis himself, before he pressed his fingertips to his mouth.

Later, as Noctis felt his life ebbing, his destiny fulfilled and the promise of peace waiting for him, he smiled, for he knew one day, when they were reunited in the beyond, he’d truly know the feel of those lips on his. Ignis was worth the wait.


End file.
